Cut beans, fix tractors, feed hogs, scratch cattle backs

Tuesday

Nov 2, 2004 at 12:01 AM

By MARC KOVACStaff WriterHungry sows aren't shy when it comes to breakfast.The slamming of a door or the sight of people is enough to send the animals into a frenzy of movement and guttural squeals. Imagine the trumpet of an angry elephant crossed with fingernails scratching across a chalkboard."They know it's feeding time," said Terry Meek, manager of the swine herd at Ohio State University's Agricultural Technical Institute.Meek and assistant manager Stuart Courtney oversee 700-800 animals at ATI's swine facility, from newborn piglets that stay close to their mother's side to full-size market hogs about to become supermarket staples.Before sunup one day recently, they joined five ATI students in cleaning and feeding chores at the school's livestock facility near Apple Creek.Though the sun rises later and sets sooner, autumn still is a busy time across Wayne County's farms and fields.At mid-morning, the Steiner brothers were hard at work fixing tractors at their business northeast of Orrville, trying to keep pace on engine overhaul and restoration projects in between other service and sales calls.Before noon, the city of Wooster's finance director stopped to talk about commodity prices and livestock numbers, indicators he watches regularly to pinpoint economic trends for the city.By mid-afternoon, a farmer was cutting soybeans in a field near Rittman, hoping to truck the harvest away before dew or rain drenched the yellowing pods.And just before sunset, a husband and wife north of Wooster's city limits finished feeding their herd of miniature beef cattle, a potential niche market for livestock producers.'It goes pretty fast'Courtney wheeled his pick-up down a dark gravel drive toward a couple of outbuildings at the ATI livestock facility.On cue, dozens of sows began screaming for service. Some were so excited they jumped up onto the fences surrounding their pens no small feat for animals of such mass.Students Ryan Heffelfinger, Zach Morey and Tim Sherwood climbed off the back of the truck, pulled a wheelbarrow from the bed and headed to a feed bin.In a matter of minutes, they had dropped scoops full of food (about 5 pounds for each animal) into the pens, and squealing gave way to slurping and sloshing as pregnant hogs made quick work of their morning meal."It goes pretty fast when you've got this many people helping," Courtney said.There are about a dozen students enrolled in ATI's two-year swine management program. From day one, each is required to sign up for chores at the hog facility, committing to do 30 hours of work per quarter.Last year, Wayne County ranked ninth in the state in total hogs and pigs (50,100 in 2003), according to the Ohio Agricultural Statistics Services. Swine also accounted for more than $7.4 million in cash receipts to local producers.Students trained in swine management are in demand, Meek said."They can go anywhere they want to go," he said. "All over the United States, jobs are open."ATI's program has an emphasis on hands-on experience; swine students sign up for two-hour morning stints to complete chores at the hog barns.One day recently, five students were at the facility before sunrise, hosing down aisles, filling feed bins and making sure animals were awake and healthy."I just want to work with animals," said Zach Morey, a Knox County native enrolled in swine, beef and sheep studies, shortly before spraying down the pig nursery area.His older brother, Alden, started his morning by cleaning farrow pens, where week-old piglets hovered under heating lamps or near their mothers to keep warm and fed. He provided the mothers with a "good healthy scoop-full" of feed, making each get up on its feet to eat.It takes nearly six months for piglets to grow into market hogs. Meek said the animals are moved several times, from the farrowing area to nurseries to larger pens and, eventually, to market.In another barn, Christy Derck, a Paulding County student whose interest in hogs stems from involvement in 4-H projects, mixed hundreds of pounds of food for feeder pigs. An auger system filled bins in separate pens, ensuring the animals have enough to get through the day.Later, before some of the students had to return to main campus for classes, Meek hoped to complete the week's artificial insemination activities. Running a swine operation requires being precise about the number of pregnant hogs on site and the timing of their births."We'll be shooting for eight or nine (sows)," he said.Busiest Time of YearLarry and Loren Steiner remember the last time they had so-called "slack time" to focus on their own tractor hobby interests.It's been about two years."This whole year has been our busiest time of year," Larry Steiner said. "It's not let up."The brothers run Steiner Equipment & Repair from the longtime family farm near Orrville. They sell equipment (including zero-turn mowers) and repair tractors and implements.The two grew up on the farm and have worked with engines since they were young. Loren Steiner remembered his first project, converting a riding lawn mower into a go-cart. Larry Steiner learned the ropes through ag mechanics classes at the Wayne County Schools Career Center "Before I could even drive," he joked.The Steiners have been fixing tractors for other farmers for more than 30 years, starting out doing repair jobs on the side, then going full-time about eight years ago after ceasing the family dairy operation.Repair services are in demand, in part because of the price of equipment. It's cheaper to fix the old than to invest in something new.In Wayne County alone, farms had more than $138 million worth of machinery and equipment in 2002, up from $106 million in 1997, according to the most recent U.S. Census of Agriculture.Also, 1,619 farms in the county had 5,501 tractors on site that's more than three per operation. A little more than 600 local farms had 1,280 tractors with 100 horsepower or greater power, according to the Census, compiled every five years by the National Agricultural Statistics Service.Loren Steiner tightened and loosened gaps on a 4240 John Deere as part of an engine overhaul. Back in 1978, when the tractor was new, the model cost about $18,000. Today, a comparable tractor would run more than $100,000, Loren Steiner said."And the price of commodities has not gone up since '78," he added.An engine overhaul can take 40 labor hours or more. Loren Steiner hoped to have the 4240 completed by the end of the day.His brother focused his attention on the restoration of a 1936 Deere, power washing a cylinder head to remove years of dirt and oil deposits. He already installed new rings and pistons and planned to have the engine re-assembled later in the day. Then, he would have to sandblast the frame and add sheet metal for the body shell.Spring and autumn generally are the most hectic times for the business. Larry Steiner said he and his brother repair a dozen or more tractors during harvest time. Occasionally, they make house calls to get implements back into fields faster."You can have three or four different colored tractors in here (at one time)," Loren Steiner said.Larry Steiner worked within sight of the house where he grew up and the barn where his parents milked about 50 cows."The farm has been in the family for several generations," he said.He doesn't know how much longer his and other families can stay on multi-generation farms, however. The changing economics of agriculture and the tax burden associated with inheritance are making it difficult to preserve family operations."It presents a real problem for farms staying in the family for generations," Larry Steiner said.For the present, the brothers focused on the projects at hand, pushing to finish before sunset. But the Steiners have to stay flexible to meet other business demands."You can get a lot of interruptions here," Larry Steiner said. "We are the secretary. We take the calls. We do the whole business."Market WatchAndrei Dordea is a white-collar guy with bib overall dreams.Growing up, he remembers visiting a friend's grandparents' farm, and he baled hay as a teen-ager.Today, Dordea occasionally visits a friend's longhorn cattle farm in eastern Ohio, and he's enjoyed opportunities to visit with area producers.Retiring to a small hobby farm would be nice, he said. For the present, however, he must find agricultural contentment through daily newspaper and radio market reports.Dordea is finance director for the city of Wooster, a position that involves evaluating a variety of national, state and local economic indicators.On the national level, he watches unemployment rates and other statistics. At the state and local level, he scrutinizes housing starts and building permits and the like.Since taking the helm of the finance department a couple of years ago, Dordea also has made it a point to check commodity prices, hog numbers and other agricultural statistics.Wayne County ranked third in the state in farm commodity sales last year, totaling $162 million, according to the Ohio Agricultural Statistics Service. The county ranks first in cattle and calves, milk cows and hay, second in sheep and lambs and oats and ninth in hogs.A rise in commodity prices could mean a few extra dollars for area farmers, who, in turn, might pay down additional debt or invest in more land, equipment or livestock. A drop could translate into less spending at local businesses and, perhaps, a drop in city tax revenues."(This) sort of stuff impacts the county, which impacts the city," he said.Throughout each week, Dordea listens to radio farm reports and reads prices and statistics in newspapers and at agriculture-related Web sites "Any type of market news," he said. He considers the indicators when making budget projections and recommendations for the city.But translating agricultural market trends isn't an exact science."It fluctuates wildly," Dordea said, adding later, "It is just one piece. ... You've got to look at all of (the indicators) together."Cutting BeansDave Dotterer made a second pass through a soybean field north of Rittman.In spots, there were few plants to run through his big red Case combine."Conditions weren't real good at planting time," he said, referring to persistent rains that hampered early crop development and drove some farmers to replant soggy fields.But other parts of the parcel were flush with stalks and fuzzy pods fat with soybeans. In fact, Dotterer said he's averaging yields of 50-55 bushels per acre a good number in any year.According to the Ohio Agricultural Statistics Service's Oct. 1 survey, soybean yields statewide averaged 46 bushels per acre, up 7.5 bushels from last year. If realized, production would top 203 million bushels, a new state record.As of last week, soybeans statewide were 94 percent mature, about five days behind last year and eight behind the five-year average, according to the statistics service. About 73 percent of the crop was harvested, about one day behind 2003 and four behind the five-year average.Dotterer was a little behind schedule but making headway. He cut a path through a field he rents near the Medina County line. On one side, yellowed plants were ready to harvest; on the other, darker stalks, planted later in the season, would need more time to dry.Dotterer waits until the moisture content of the soybeans is about 15 percent or less to begin harvesting. Farmers can split pods and crush beans in their fingers or bite into them to determine crop progress. Implements also have moisture and yield meters, giving producers exact measurements of water content at the time of harvest.Soybeans can soak up water throughout harvest time, so Dotterer often waits until early afternoon (after the sun has dried dew) to begin cutting.He stops before the evening dew settles."Some nights, you're done at 8:30, 9 p.m.," he said.The combine has a rotary system that cuts the plants, splits the pods and shoots the beans into a storage bin. The leftover chaff and field debris is blown out the back.From his combine seat, Dotterer could see traffic speeding along state Route 57 and construction crews working on a new car dealership being built nearby. His semi-truck was parked on a country road in the other direction, within reach of the combine for unloading.Dotterer made a couple of passes through the field, then dumped his harvest into the trailer. He hoped to complete the field and start another before the end of the day. He planned to truck the beans back to his Sterling farm for more drying and storage.The beans will be transported to a processor this winter. Some of the crop will return to Wayne County later as livestock feed.Little DoggiesJust north of Wooster, at the end of a new subdivision road lined with the types of big houses that are sprouting on frontage lots throughout the county, Ron Hovanec and his wife, Julie, are establishing a specialty livestock farm."So far, I haven't had a single neighbor complain," he said.A couple of years ago, the couple moved to the Wayne Township site after selling the New Pittsburg-area dairy farm they'd operated for about 14 years.Not wanting to get out of farming entirely, they purchased 40 acres near a growing rural neighborhood."(That space was) going to be everybody's backyards," Hovanec said of pasture land in front of his home.Hovanec's principal job involves trading milk futures. On the side he tends about 39 beef cattle.It's a small herd.Talk about little doggies."This is a 2-year-old cow," he said, motioning to a Lowline Angus, one of the miniature cattle he raises as breeding stock.At full size, the black cows stand less than 42 inches tall. Some are shorter than a yard stick.They're a lot different than the 60 or so Holsteins he and his wife used to milk. And typical beef cattle stand a couple of feet taller.The miniature breeds have their advantages, Hovanec said. Studies have shown they can produce more meat per acre than regular beef cattle. The animals are more docile, too."One likes to have her back scratched," he said, later demonstrating on said animal.Because of their smaller stature, the cattle are easier on the land and produce less manure.And the best part for the Hovanecs: It takes a lot less time to complete feeding and other daily chores, compared to the full day of activity required when milking cows. During the summer, pasture grasses provide the bulk of their diet, requiring even less work.Hovanec and his wife can do the morning chores in about 15 minutes. They finished the evening feeding routine, which included hauling hay by tractor out to the pasture, in about 45 minutes."It's a lot different to go (from) 8-10 hours a day to one hour a day," he said.There is at least one major disadvantage to the animals, however. Miniature cattle can be too pet-like, Hovanec warned."They're cute," he said. "Some people won't eat them."County reporter/Farm Editor Marc Kovac can be reached at (330) 287-1645 or e-mail at mkovac@the-daily-record.com.